Not Alone
by Lara-Van
Summary: She put a hand on his arm, and he looked up at her. "You won't be alone," Emma said. "I promise." Peter goes to heal Matt and gets a horrible shock. When he returns to the hospital, Emma comforts him. Speculation on 4x9: Brother's Keeper. Some Pemma.


**A Note From Lara:** I have a hunch that Peter is going to find out that Nathan's dead in Brother's Keeper. I also have a theory that this information might jump-start his powers; Pete's powers were always strongest when someone he cared about was in trouble. And it doesn't get much more "trouble" than dead. So that's the explanation for this. Also- I'm not quite sure if the focus of this is Pemma or the revelation of dead!Nathan. It's just... a fic.

* * *

Emma kept meaning to talk to Peter throughout the morning, but every time she caught sight of him, he was too busy to justify pulling him aside even for a few minutes. It was frustrating, because she wanted a chance to ask him about the confusing flip side to her ability she had discovered by accident. She just wanted to talk to him, period, but her ability, and her decision to return to medical school, were forefront in her mind.

Finally, she managed to track him down as he was heading toward the lockers when his shift ended at noon. Emma called his name and he stopped to let her catch up to him. She studied him for a moment before she spoke. Obviously he had been healing again, because his face was pale and there was a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. "I thought you weren't going to use your ability so much," she said disapprovingly. "You should take better care of yourself."

He shrugged apologetically. "If it can save a life, what's a little discomfort?"

Emma smiled to show that she understood. "No second shift?" she asked jokingly.

Peter laughed, but his eyes looked sober. "Not today. A friend of mine was shot, down in New Mexico. I needed the afternoon off to go down and heal him."

"How will you get there?"

"Nathan- my brother. He can fly," he explained.

She nodded, taking the information that her representative in the U.S. Senate could fly so calmly that she surprised even herself. The two weeks since Peter had come into her life, with his constantly-shifting powers and his unexpected friends had been the strangest she'd ever experienced. But at the same time it felt almost normal, as contradictory as that seemed.

"When you get back, can I talk to you? My ability has been... strange," she said.

"Sure. Depending on the weather, we should be back in New York by six or so. You get off at... six-thirty, right?"

Emma confirmed that, surprised that he remembered what time she got off work. But Peter had struck her from the very beginning as the type of person to remember little things like that, so maybe it wasn't _that_ shocking.

"We'll figure it out."

He touched her shoulder gently, in that way that he had, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And in a way, it was. But Emma still felt her skin where his hand rested more clearly than any other part of her. She had been trying to deny her attraction to Peter, but it was difficult when he was always so sweet and so comforting to be around.

"Thank you," she said. "I'll see you later?"

He nodded, and then hurried down the hallway toward the exit.

--

Peter laid his hand on Matt and closed his eyes, drawing the power out from a well of sparkling white within him. When he opened his eyes again, there was the faintest hint of that white light around the place where his hand rested on the telepath's shoulder. The energy went out of him in a rush, and Peter slumped back in exhaustion.

Nathan caught him and steadied him. "Whoa, you alright?"

He nodded, too out of breath to speak.

Suddenly Matt sat up with a gasp, clutching at the places where he had been shot. He looked wildly around, and his eyes fixed on Peter's face. "Peter? How--?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Healing power," Peter mumbled, still none too steady on his feet. It had taken a tremendous amount of power to close the other man's multitude of wounds.

The man in question was looking around, focused on something to his immediate right for a moment. He looked inexplicably angry. Then Matt's eyes fixed on Nathan, and what little color he'd regained after being healed drained out of his face. "You..." he whispered. Then he turned to Peter. "You shouldn't have healed me! I was _trying_ to die, don't you see? I had to. Better that the world lose me than to have him in it..."

"What are you talking about?" Peter asked, confused. "Who?"

Matt sighed, and ran his hands over his face. "No..." he hissed, so softly Peter wasn't even sure he'd said it. "No, you can't...." He fell back against his pillow very suddenly, and it almost didn't look like it was of his own volition.

Nathan stepped forward in concern, and in that moment, Matt's hand shot forward and seized his. Peter's brother went as white as Matt had just moments before, and he shook for a moment before he managed to break free from the detective's grasp and throw himself to the other side of the room. "No!" he gasped. "It- I can't be!" He pressed himself against the wall, staring at Matt and shaking his head wildly.

Peter stared from Nathan to Matt. "What's happening?" he demanded.

Matt looked miserable. "Sylar," he said. "Peter... god, I don't even know how to tell you this..." He rubbed his jaw uncomfortably, stalling. "I did something terrible. A few months ago, when we were fighting Sylar in the capitol... He killed Nathan."

A horrible feeling of foreboding was creeping through Peter's stomach, but he did his best to ignore it. Nathan was standing right in front of him. He looked very confused and frightened by something, it was true, but he was there. "But Nathan's right here," he insisted.

The telepath shook his head. "No. He's not. We didn't know what to do, and if people found out that someone like us had killed a Senator... They talked me into fixing it. When you brought Sylar in, I pushed him. I took his memories out of his head, forced all of Sylar out... and pushed Nathan in. All this time.... all this time, Sylar's been rattling around inside _me_ instead, making me do things. I didn't want to, I couldn't... I'm so sorry..."

But Peter wasn't listening anymore. Everything had gone lopsided, and nothing made sense if Nathan was gone. He stared at the place where his brother stood... but suddenly it wasn't Nathan, not really. It wasn't _not _Nathan, but something had shifted. Peter realized that the other man had shapeshifted to something halfway between Nathan and Sylar. He stared at the Nathan/Sylar thing in horror. "No," he whispered. "No no no no no."

"Peter-" Nathan/Sylar said, reaching a hand out toward him. "I don't--"

"Don't touch me!" Peter said, jerking away from it, trying to blink away the tears that were suddenly welling up in his eyes as he did so. "You're not... you can't..."

Sylar, Nathan, whatever he was, took another step forward. "Please, Pete," he/it/they said in a voice too much like Nathan's, "Please, I don't know who I am. I don't know what I am. Please, help me. I need to... I need to understand. I don't know who I am."

He shook his head, horror stealing over him and mixing with the grief that was rising up to choke him. "Leave me alone!" he half-shouted. He had to get out of here... he had to get away... And on instinct, he did what he'd always done before when he needed to make a quick exit. He slammed his eyes shut and jumped....

--

The streams of wispy crimson light bursting through the door of the supply closet caught Emma's attention. Hesitantly, she pushed the door open, and saw Peter standing in the middle of the room. A large stack of boxes had fallen over and their contents were strewn across the floor. He looked around helplessly, not having noticed her presence, then made a move as if to pick up some of the mess.

She stepped into the room, and Peter at last noticed she was there. He wiped quickly at his eyes and she realized that he was crying. "Are you alright?" she asked nervously.

"Yeah, it's just these boxes... I teleported and I didn't really aim..." Peter wasn't meeting her eyes, instead staring at the floor which made it difficult for her to read his lips. She stepped across a smashed box of surgical gloves and closed the gap between them, and her movement finally got him to look at her. "This is a mess," he said sadly.

And then the tears that she'd seen in his eyes spilled over again suddenly. "My br... Nathan's dead. For months, there's been a shapeshifter, pretending to be..." He dropped his face into his hands, shoulders slumped. He was the picture of dejection.

Emma didn't know what to do; she'd never known a man willing to cry in front of her, not even her brother-in-law when Christopher died. All she could think to do was to pull him into a comforting hug. His arms went around her in return, and she could feel him shaking as he buried his face in her shoulder. She held him and rubbed his back gently as he cried.

After a few minutes, Peter pulled himself together and let go of her. "I'm so sorry about that," he said with a humorless smile that didn't even come close to reaching his eyes. He sighed. "My whole life, he's been there for me. I know him better than anybody else, and he died months ago and I didn't even realize there was an impostor. How could I not see?" His eyes were bright again, but he seemed to have cried himself out. "Nathan was my best friend, you know? Even when I was avoiding him, even when he did stupid things and hurt me, I always knew that as long as he was out there I'd never be alone. It just feels so... _empty_ now that he's gone."

She put a hand on his arm, and he looked up at her. "You won't be alone," Emma said. "I promise." It was a weighty promise, she knew. She herself was so used to being completely alone, completely isolated, that she couldn't really fathom the idea of being anymore. But Peter had become important to her so quickly, and she hated the idea of him having to go through this by himself.

He nodded, and the ever-so-slight upward twitch of his mouth looked slightly more genuine this time. "Thank you, Emma," he said sincerely.

"We'll find a way to get through this," she said. "Somehow." And she knew that she was telling the truth. It took years to get past the death of someone you loved. She knew that firsthand. But she would be there for Peter the way someone should have been there for her. He would survive this. She would make sure of it.


End file.
